The Highlander's Forbidden Mistress (The Lairds Most Likely 7)

Selina obeyed, reaching to hook one trembling hand through the strap dangling from the roof. She tried not to think how this new position exposed her even more blatantly. As the vehicle bounced along the rough road, she caught her breath and held it.

Every muscle tightened while she braced for his mouth to touch her cleft. Instead he began to kiss her thighs, nipping, licking, tasting. On an audible gust, she exhaled. With possessive caresses that made her quiver like a sapling in a gale, his hands ran up and down her legs.

Only when she was shivering with need did he spread her legs wider and place his mouth over her center. Fire raged through her, threatened to incinerate her to smoking ash.

"Brock!" she cried out, bucking up toward him and releasing her creased skirts to grab his hair.

When his tongue started to explore every intimate fold, shock held her motionless. Then he found the place that turned her to quaking jelly. He teased her until pleasure swelled in a great wave. She’d been reaching for her peak before he pulled out of her. This time, the crest of sensation flung her higher and higher.

Selina cried out again in joy and gratitude as a spasm of rapture cramped every muscle. When she returned to the world, he remained kneeling between her legs. His green eyes were heavy with satisfaction, although he’d done nothing to take care of his own release.

"That was…wonderful." Her voice was thick with the lingering effects of her climax. She untangled her hand from the strap. At the height, she’d clutched it so hard that the leather had bit into her palm. Astonishment made her stammer. "I had no idea."

Brock bent his head to place a kiss on her curls and shifted back. Through dazed eyes, she watched him wipe his mouth. Something about his ease with what they’d done banished her excruciating embarrassment. "Shall we try the other again?"

She felt like she’d been racked upon the stars. She felt like her bones had dissolved into hot syrup. "I doubt I could sit up."

"I’ll hold onto you." He regarded her with steady interest that summoned another blush. "The decision is yours."

When she’d surrendered to that searing release, she’d assumed she’d feel sated, at least until they reached the hunting lodge. Now staring into his intent dark face, fresh restlessness stirred.

Because when his big body united with hers, she’d felt whole for the first time in her life. It was dangerous to lend an emotional slant to what she and Brock did. She’d find it difficult enough to reconcile herself to a future without sensual satisfaction, especially after what she’d just discovered. Only a fool would talk herself into a broken heart as well. But even knowing the risk, something in her soul had yearned toward him when they joined.

And she’d wanted more.

"In that case, I’m all yours."

He rose to resume his place on the seat. This time, she kept her balance better and her movements were less awkward as she placed herself over him.

Nor was he in such a furious hurry, although the bulge in his breeches betrayed his fierce need. Instead of opening his front fall and pulling her down onto him, he began to kiss her with languid pleasure, as if time had no meaning.

Selina let him draw her into a game of lips and tongues and teeth. While she treated this affair as deadly serious, she found herself ready to tease, too. Nipping at his lips. Dipping her tongue into his mouth. Advancing and pulling back in a flirtatious dance.

His hands roamed up and down her back, tracing her spine, shaping her hips and descending to cup her buttocks and crush her into his hardness. She gasped as she felt the pressure of his erection. He hadn’t yet caressed her breasts, already heavy and aching for his touch.

She started her own exploration of his body and cursed the barriers of clothing, although she kept enough grip on reality to know that they couldn’t go naked in a coach on the King’s highway. But through the black superfine of his coat, she felt the sinewy muscles of his shoulders and arms and the hard expanse of his chest and back.

Brock kissed her as if he couldn’t get enough of the taste of her mouth. She’d never kissed anyone like this in her life. Roderick hadn’t seen the point in kissing. This revelation of the pleasure lips could conjure charmed and beguiled her. And compelled her to the edge of desire.

Selina was the one who lost patience with this seductive game. She crammed closer and tried to extend each kiss beyond playful enjoyment to passion. When he kept up the teasing, she growled in frustration. She’d been tunneling her hand through his hair. Now she tugged hard and held his head as she stared into his glittering eyes.

"You’re driving me mad, plague take you."

He was panting, and a flush marked his slanted cheekbones. His lips might tease, but his heavy gaze told her that he rapidly moved past kisses, too.

"So what are you going to do about it?"

She realized then that while he might make allowances for her inexperience, he expected her to play the full partner in this seduction. "You want me to take the lead?" she asked, her voice shaky with a resurgence of nerves.

"If that appeals to you."

For a bleak moment, Roderick’s scathing response to her attempts to please him echoed in her ears. Then she dismissed the memory. Brock wasn’t Roderick. Brock had given her more delight in the last two hours than Roderick had given her in nine years together.

"Tell me if I do anything wrong."

"Do what you like, and you won’t go wrong."

"I don’t know what I like." She paused, cheeks heating. "Well, I like it when you’re inside me. And I like it when you touch me…down there."